Clem the Guru
by Cy's Angels
Summary: If you need a break from all the angst, predictable storylines, and good writing, look no further! Set after the season finale featuring Clem, Spike's spontaneously combusting shirt, and plenty of crepes-and-disco!
1. Soul Searching...Except Not

SUMMARY: "If you need a break from all the angst, predictable storylines, and _good _writing, look no further! Set after the season finale featuring Clem, Spike's spontaneously combusting shirt, and plenty of crepes-and-disco!"   
  
SET: Right after the season finale, diverges into extreme AU : )   
  
RATING: I'd say PG-13 to be safe due to excessive silly-violence and shirtless scenes...   
  
(and now to the best part!)   
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES!!!!   
  
L: This story is dedicated to all of the fellow Clem-lovers out there who think the droopy-skinned Demon is the greatest thing since sliced bread, or something equally cool. Also if you don't like stories that make fun of the show, I'd suggest you leave. Now. Unless you wish to flame us, that might be amusing. Anything to add, K? 

K: Why yes, do flame! It shall be fun! I'm sure fans of Buffy, Dawn, Willow, Xander, Anya, and Giles will all flame! Notice how that's like the entire cast? OMG, Angel looks like Homo Erectus!!! Or a Neanderthal! Human Origins is my favorite movie. Everyone should watch it. That is all. Enjoy the story and intelligence of Clem.   


  


  


****

CLEM THE GURU   
or   
'What Would Clem Do?'   
(WWCD!!) 

It was a sunny day in Sunnydale. Clem didn't like sunny days much. For one thing it was too hard to get sunscreen into the folds of his skin, so he favored spending the days inside watching TV. This was what he was doing at the moment inside the dark, cold, and stylish in a gothic-sort-of-way, crypt. The crypt wasn't really his style, but he was watching it for Spike while the vampire was away in Africa doing...well, Clem wasn't really sure what exactly he was doing, but while Spike was gone Clem had free TV and food and that made him happy.   


  
All of a sudden, the door to the crypt slammed open and in strode the Slayer. "Clem! I need you to watch Dawn for me while I go fight some random demon with a name I can't pronounce who may possibly end up ending the world...or at least make it really bad for a while," the blonde said, pouting.   


  
Dawn suddenly turned to Buffy. "You're going out to fight random demons again? Oh my God, how can you keep leaving me like this all the time! I hate you!" She turned to storm out of the crypt in temper-tantrum-like manner and promptly smacked into a wall and collapsed on the floor.   


  
Buffy turned to Clem, Dawn's antics proving that she needed a babysitter. She raised her eyebrows in desperation that always made unsuspecting people feel sorry for her. "Please?"   


  
"Yeah, sure, okay." said Clem, waving her off, still mesmerized by the T.V.   


  
"Thanks, Clem!" She turned to leave and tripped over the unconscious body of her sister. "Oh, yeah, bye Dawnie!" She got up and skipped out of the crypt, humming to herself.   


  
Clem flipped off the T.V. and sighed to himself as he stepped over Dawn to see what was in the fridge, all the while muttering "Idiots..." under his breath.   
  


MEANWHILE…   


  
The demon pulled his arm back out of Spike's oh-so-sexy chest and shook it out. "Geez! You shocked me!" he exclaimed in a very whiny, but low and scary, voice.   


  
Spike stood there, in amazement at the awesome special effects this guy had. He then snapped back to reality. "Bloody hell! Why did you give me back my bleedin' soul you nancy-ponce poofter!" he growled, frowning.   


  
The demon sighed. "I could feed you all that rot about it being what you need to make Buffy love you, but let's face it, it was just an excuse to make you more angsty."   


  
"And the trials?"   


  
The demon shrugged, "There had to be some way to keep our female demographic tuning in."   


  
Spike contemplated this. "Yeah, I s'pose I am pretty hot." His face screwed up in confusion. "But wait a minute! Hasn't this already been done before? You know with that guy who looks like a caveman?"   


  
A scaly hand was quickly shoved over Spike's mouth, silencing the vampire. "Are you crazy? If you don't stop talking like that, you'll upset the writers! You don't want another organ dropped on you, do you?" He cleared his throat and resumed talking in a low voice. "Behold! Your soul is restored! Feel the pain and torture of those you have hurt and killed!"   


  
Spike stood there, looking blankly (but still sexily) at the demon. He looked down at his feet and arms, as if expecting to feel some shock or jolt. He looked up again and shrugged at the demon.   


  
"Err...you are now cursed with the guilt of a thousand deaths! Begone!" And with that the demon ushered Spike out of the cave, whispering "Start angsting, dammit!"   


  
Spike stood outside the cave and wondered what he should do next. From inside the cave he could hear someone laughing evilly. Actually, attempting to laugh evilly. And failing. Miserably.   


  
"Muahahaha! Muahahahaa....ha...ha....Yeah. I wonder what's on TV..."   
  


*


	2. Angstness

AUTHORS' NOTES: Yay! More pointlessness! Onward! We hate Dawn!

BACK IN SUNNYDALE… 

Clem wandered aimlessly around the small town of Sunnydale, no longer able to stand the endless whining of the slayer's younger sister. He strolled along the sidewalk when suddenly a motorcycle came roaring down the small, deserted street. Clem smiled at his arriving buddy. "Spike, you're back! So, how'd that whole demon thing turn out?"   


  
Spike got off the motorcycle and stood beside his friend. "I don't really know. He says I'm supposed to be "angsting" because I got a soul. Hey, Clem, how does one go about angsting?"   


  
Clem continued his stroll, Spike following. "Well, I think it involves inner turmoil and such. Like this: 'Oh, woe is me! The guilt of a thousand deaths weighs upon my being! I have a soul, woe is me!' Now you try it."   


  
"Woe is me? Isn't that a bit..."   


  
"Just do it!"   


  
"Woe is me, woe is me."   


  
"Good, now rip off your shirt."   


  
Spike cocked his head. "Wha?"   


  
Clem sighed. "You have to think of the predominantly female audience!"   


  
"Oh, right!" He looked down. "But I'm not wearing a shirt!"   


  
"Well, get one before you head to the graveyard."   


  
"Graveyard?"   


  
"Of course! You're supposed to angst in front of the slayer!" Clem scratched his head. "You might want to throw in a few 'Buffy will never love me's too."   


  
"Good idea, Clem!" he put his arm around his comrade. "What would I do without a friend like you?"   


  
Clem shrugged nonchalantly, "You'd probably all be running around in a panicked frenzy. Hey, you wouldn't happen to know where the closest 7-11 is, would you?"   


  
"A couple blocks down, located conveniently right next to the Magic Shop where you're sure to see some of the blithering fools...er...Scoobies. Well, I'd better get back to my crypt and find a shirt before I get jumped by a hormone crazy teenager." Spike paused for a second and then added for good measure, "Woe is me. Bloody poofin' soul. Bugger." Then he walked off.   


  


MEANWHILE IN THE CRYPT...   


  
Dawn sat amidst all of Spike's personal belongings that she had rooted through after she had (sadly) regained consciousness. She frowned, finding only a few 'Enya' CDs and, strangely, a fuzzy pink diary. "Well, I guess I'd better go walk alone in the graveyard or something even though Buffy said I shouldn't because I am SO mature enough. Maybe I should go steal some stuff too along the way because no one ever pays attention to me."   


  
And with that she left (thank god) the crypt. No one really missed her.   
  


IN THE MAGIC SHOP…   


  
Giles sat at a table cleaning his glasses for the hundredth time that minute, all the while clearing his throat and stuttering. "Er, yes. I may as well tell you all; I'll be leaving again to go to the land of bad food and crumpets, but d-don't worry, I'll most likely be returning just as nobody misses me anymore."   


  
No one replied, seeing as no one else was in the room with him.   


  
The door opened and in jiggled Xander. "G-Man! Giles! The Rupe-ster!"   


  
"Oh do shut up, beady eyes," said Anya crossly as she magically appeared, without any supplied reason from the plot, predictably counting money by the cash register.   


  
Thankfully, Clem just then entered the store, drinking a Big Gulp, and saving everyone from getting stupider. "Hey, guys!"   


  
Xander pointed. "Hey! Look! It's Clemmy, the Clem-meister, the-"   


  
Anya slammed register door closed. "Shut up, Xander, you don't even have any powers!"   


  
"Hey! I-I-" he turned and sat in a corner, mumbling to himself.   


  
"Hello, Clem, old chap!" said Giles, extending his hand.   


  
Clem studied it disdainfully and looked up. "Aren't you supposed to be leaving now?"   


  
Giles picked up his suitcases. "By George, you're right! Goodbye all!" He hopped merrily out the door.   


  
Xander immediately jumped up. "Hey! What if I put a spell on myself so I looked like Spike? Then you guys would like me!"   


  
Anya turned to him again. "Yeah, if only you had actual POWERS! Why are you still here?!"   


  
"Hey, but I-I-" he sighed. "I need some ice cream." He turned and walked out the door.   


  
Clem slurped his Big Gulp, then turned and headed for the crypt. Buffy might be a bit mad if Dawn was dead. Upon his return, he found that she was missing. 'Hey! Maybe she was carried off by a demon!' he thought, smiling hopefully.   
  


  
MEANWHILE...   
  


  
Dawn wandered around the graveyard. "Buffy!" she called. "We need to talk! I never see you anymore and I-" Dawn slipped and fell into an open grave. She sat at the bottom, unscathed, and screamed like a maniac until she lost her voice and eventually starved. Upon hearing this, the world rejoiced.   


*  



	3. Angsty Disco Idiots

AT THAT MOMENT... 

Spike lounged beneath a tree, waiting for Buffy to pass by so he could angst at her. He soon heard her telltale whistle coming his way and began his angst as Clem had instructed. "Oh woe is me! Buffy will never love me! Woe is me!" 'Am I forgetting anything?' he thought. 'Oh yeah!' "If only I hadn't gotten a bloody soul! I feel so guilty!" Spike was running out of angsty things to say. What was taking Buffy so long anyway? 'Hmm...' he thought, 'What would Clem do?' He paused. "To be or not to be, that is the question. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing-"   


  
"Shut up already!" said Buffy, suddenly standing before him.   


  
Spike's jaw dropped. "How the bloody hell did you-I mean, uh...woe is me! I have a soul! Buffy will never love me! Woe is me!"   


  
"Wow!" said Buffy. "Good angst! Clem, right?"   


  
Spike nodded. "Um...well...what now?"   


  
"I don't know. I should probably beat you up as an outlet for my own overwhelming angst."   


  
"Okay, but-" Spike was cut off by a kick in the face from Buffy's five-inch heels. "Bloody Hell!" he shouted.   


  
Buffy hit him again. "I hate you Spike, I hate you! You're a freak!" With that she continued her pointless walk through the graveyard, as always.   


  
Spike got up from under the tree and shook his head a few times before deciding to head back to his crypt and get more expert advice from Clem. Upon arriving, he found Clem playing disco music and dancing around the room. The droopy-skinned demon was currently doing the hustle in some most excellent powder blue bell bottoms.   


  
"Clem?"   


  
Clem turned and waved. "Hey, how'd that angst go?"   


  
"Well...she did say it was good angst. Then she beat me up."   


  
Clem stared at Spike for a moment. "Were you forgetting something?" He pointed at Spike's chest.   


  
Spike looked down, and smacked himself in the forehead. "Damn! I forgot to tear my shirt off!"   


  
"Well, there you go! Head over to the Magic Box and angst there. Buffy will probably head over there on her walk of pointlessness anyway." said Clem.   


  
"Thanks, Clem! How can I ever repay you?"   


  
Clem thought for a moment. "Do you have a disco ball?"   


  
MEANWHILE...   


  
Xander was sitting in his corner of the little magic shop, eating his pint of double fudge ripple, when he heard the telltale ringing of the bell at the door, signaling someone had arrived.   


  
"Hey, is anyone here?" asked Buffy.   


  
"Buffy? Is that you?"   


  
"Hey, Xander." she said, walking over to him. "Have you seen Willow anywhere?"   


  
"Oh, didn't I tell you guys?"   


  
Tell us what?" asked Anya, appearing out of nowhere.   


  
"When I was over at the drugstore getting my ice cream, I saw Willow walking in the middle of the highway, and she got run over by an eighteen-wheeler. It was pretty cool!" explained Xander.   


  
Anya gasped. "Is she all right?"   


  
Xander shrugged. "Actually, I think she's dead."   


  
"Are you sure it wasn't some stupid, mystical cause instead that killed her? Something I can kill because that's the only thing I'm good at?" Buffy asked.   


  
"No. I'm pretty sure she's dead. She didn't move afterward," replied Xander and thoughtfully stroking his chins.   


  
Upon hearing this, the world rejoiced.   


  
Buffy collapsed in a chair as if in a trance. "Oh no, this is all my fault! If only I hadn't...I mean I could have..." she buried hear face in her hands. "Angst! Angst!"   


  
"Did somebody say angst?" Spike entered and came over to the group, where his shirt spontaneously combusted, setting Xander on fire and killing him. Instantly.   


  
Upon seeing this, everyone cheered.   


  
"Thank God, I was beginning to think I would have to do it myself," Anya exclaimed with glee.   


  
Spike stared at the ashy remains of Xander and pondered. "Hmmm...must have been all the lard that made him so bloody flammable."   


  
Everyone thought about this for a second, but not any longer because then their heads started to hurt.   


  
"Ow," Buffy said. Then she looked around and noticed that Giles was gone...again. "This always happens." Her eyes began to shine. "Why do they always leave? My dad, Riley, that guy I slept with that one time, Giles...and Giles...and Giles!"   


  
Spike walked over and put his arm around her. "Don't fret luv, there's something wrong with all of them blokes 'cuz you're a right fine bird, you are. Why, you make _me _feel alive and all that sappy goodness."   


  
Buffy sniffed. "You're right." She leaned into his embrace and then straightened up. All of a sudden she kicked Spike. "You evil, evil being! Even though you're nice and sweet and really hot, you're a demon so therefore I must hate you!" She punched him again for good measure and then ran out of the shop, first knocking into the door because she forgot to open it. Once she had successfully turned the knob she ran flailing into the night.   


  
Spike rubbed his head. "Ow. Bitch."   


  
Anya leaned against the counter, "Wow, Clem was right. She really does have some issues. Oh well, I'm going to count my money again. Or fret about being left at the altar. You don't see any bunnies, do you?"   


  
Suddenly a voice was heard from above, "Okay, Do you WANT me to kill you? Because I'm THIS close to doing it if you don't stop being predictable! Comedy relief only goes so far, y'know."   


  
Anya cowered and put the money down.   


  
"Good, that's better," the voice--who sounded suspiciously like the author--said.   


  
Spike cleared his throat. "Uh, right. Anyway..." he took a deep breath, "Oh woe is me! The guilt weighs me down like the weight of the ashy wanker! It's all I can do to not burst into tears!"   


  
"Buffy's gone, remember?" Anya said from her hiding place behind the counter.   


  
"Oh, right." He suddenly looked down and exclaimed, "Bugger! Oi! My shirt's gone again! Dammit."   


  
And with that he went off to find a new shirt.   


  
Anya peeked out from behind the counter, searching about the room. She let out a sigh of relief and happily rubbed the money against her face.   


  
Suddenly, a giant pink rabbit appeared, gobbled her up, and happily hopped away.   


  
The sound of an author rejoicing was heard.   


  
MEANWHILE...   


  
Buffy ran and ran, away from her so-called problems, away from her so-called life, and right into the tree outside Spike's crypt.   


  
Clem came out to investigate the noise. "What? Buffy? Is that you?"   


  
Buffy groaned from where she lay under the tree.   


  
Clem sighed. "Why don't you come inside?" He brightened, and added cheerfully, "I made crepes!"   


  
"Okay, I should probably work out things with Dawn." She stood.   


  
Clem blocked her way. "Uh...actually, Dawn is sick. You can't go in there. She's contagious."   


  
"Don't be silly, Clem." She pushed her way past him and into the room. "Dawn! I'm back!"   


  
Clem scratched his saggy-skinned head. "Uh...Dawn left."   


  
At that moment, Spike watched in. "Clem, I need another bloody shirt! It's odd; they just keep disappearing for some strange reason." He noticed Buffy as he donned a new shirt. "You!"   


  
"Dawn left? Really? Thank you--I mean, oh, that's bad." She started toward the door. "Just don't let it happen again."   


  
Clem opened his mouth in confusion, and then paused. He shrugged, mumbling "Whatever."   


  
Spike grabbed Buffy's arm as she was about to leave. "We can't keep living like this! Oh woe is me, why won't you love me?"   


  
"Yeah, right!" said Buffy, rolling her eyes at the heartbroken vampire. She turned and was about to leave when suddenly blood started spilling from a hole in her chest, and she collapsed onto the floor, dead.   


  
Spike gasped and turned to face Clem, who held a smoking gun.   


  
Clem set down the gun and shrugged. "Somebody had to do it."   


  
Spike contemplated his feelings on the death of his love, then smiled and laughed. "I've never felt this...happy!" He continued to laugh, regardless of the fact that his newest shirt had disintegrated.   


EPILOGUE  


  
Clem threw a most excellent crepes-and-disco party, and it became know to the demon community as the best crepes-and-disco party ever.   


  
None of the Scoobies came back to life. No one was sad.   


  
Giles was killed in a freak accident involving thirty gallons of petroleum jelly and a glass of prune juice. 

Spike continued to be the hottest vampire in all of Sunnydale, and possibly, the world. Yet, however how hard he tried, none of his shirts ever lasted more than seventeen minutes for some odd reason. No one really minded. 

The world rejoiced.

  
  
  
FIN   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


*  



End file.
